Several days later, in the middle of the Narrow Sea, at Lysport.
The fleet slowly entered the harbor of a city famed for perfume, the slave trade, and unrestrained pleasure.
Unlike the grand, bustling trading port of Volantis, the air in Lysport carried a strange blend of cloying floral sweetness, cosmetics, and seawater.
Most of the ships moored at the docks were lavishly decorated, their sails painted with vivid designs. Even the sailors dressed more flamboyantly than elsewhere.
The decision to stop in Lys for supplies had been carefully planned.
Sailing directly across the middle of the Narrow Sea from Volantis to the Stepstones would have been the shortest route, but also the most dangerous.
Those waters were riddled with hidden reefs, plagued by pirates, and subject to unpredictable weather.
Luke the Mercenary-no, Luke of the Blood Oath Band now-had revealed an unexpected side of himself while planning their course.
"Your Highness," Luke had explained respectfully over the nautical chart, tracing a route with his finger, "my father was a captain in Braavos. I often sailed with him as a child, so I know a fair bit about plotting courses."
"We should head west at an angle from Volantis and reach Lys first, where we can replenish our fresh water and food."
"Lys is one of the Free Cities, so supplies are easy to obtain. From there, we can head north toward the Stepstones along a relatively familiar trade route, avoiding several notorious reef fields and areas prone to storms."
"It will take an extra day or two, but it's safer."
Only then had Aegon learned that Luke and his younger sister were not natives of Volantis.
They were the children of a well-respected captain from Braavos. Several years earlier, their father had encountered a natural disaster at sea. His